The Program

ADIOS AMIGOS.

"Their home should be beautiful, but it just feels cold and antiseptic. They want the dog on the couch, off the couch, in the room, out of the room – imagine how'd they'd be as parents." Dray let her breath out sharply through her teeth. "Emma's anxiety runs that house. It runs Will, too. Families portion out emotion – I'd say her whining wouldn't leave much room for a daughter to have normal growing-up difficulties. That would undermine Mother's martyrdom." Dray spoke bitterly – her own mother had enjoyed a familial monopoly on suffering.

"I'd guess Leah was an inconvenience to them."

"I'd bet her job was to be quiet, easy, and invisible. And I'd bet she didn't easily fit the bill."

The traffic had lightened significantly. As they drove north, Tim reflected on his visit with his father. He'd learned at a young age that opening up had its costs – it left too much of himself to protect. And so he'd learned to seek sustenance elsewhere, to generate it from within, to remain tightly and serenely wound into himself.

This strategy had aided him when he enlisted and was called upon to kill other men.

"These aren't people to be downstream from," Dray said. "They have as much concern for you as they did for the late Danny Katanga. All they want is someone to bring in their daughter. Keep their house looking tidy. If that goes wrong, they'll be looking for someone to blame."

"But my reputation leaves me beyond reproach."

She laughed. "You're doing your Wile E. Coyote creep off the cliff right now. All I'm saying is, make sure you pack a parachute."